


3. A breathy demand: “Kiss me” - and what the other person does to respond.

by keeperofthefour



Series: 50 Types of Kisses [3]
Category: Mystic Messenger (Video Game)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-06
Updated: 2020-10-06
Packaged: 2021-03-08 01:21:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 768
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26857375
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/keeperofthefour/pseuds/keeperofthefour
Summary: This was a project I completed back in July on tumblr, using the prompt list "50 Types of Kisses" from @kashimalin-fanfiction. I am missing a couple, I think, but most of them are here. I've written various characters in both Mr. Love: Queen's Choice and Mystic Messenger.
Relationships: Han Jumin/Main Character
Series: 50 Types of Kisses [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1959259
Kudos: 33





	3. A breathy demand: “Kiss me” - and what the other person does to respond.

**Author's Note:**

> This was a project I completed back in July on tumblr, using the prompt list "50 Types of Kisses" from @kashimalin-fanfiction. I am missing a couple, I think, but most of them are here. I've written various characters in both Mr. Love: Queen's Choice and Mystic Messenger.

Though you'd never have considered it in the early days of your relationship, Jumin Han did, indeed, have a playful side. His sense of humor may have been a bit on the dry side, but it thrilled you to no end when you would catch a glimpse of his mischievous grin, the twinkle in his eye sending a shiver down your spine. 

One of his favorite things to do was to sit close enough to you at dinner outings so that he was able to make physical contact with you in some way, usually by way of his hand on your thigh. Of course, you would indulge him on these evenings by wearing a loose fitting, knee-length skirt or dress, knowing that the end result of your semi-public shenanigans would benefit you as well. Your dinner companions would be none the wiser to his fingers that trailed along your bare flesh, and if it got to be too distracting, you could intercept with a squeeze of your hand and a subtle clearing of your throat.

So he might leave you alone for a moment or two, perhaps taking a sip of wine or a polite taste of his meal. But soon, you would feel his cool fingertips sliding over your knee, trailing up under your skirt to where you pressed your legs together to conceal the heat that pooled in your core in anticipation of what was to come after dinner.

Often, it would be too much. He might overindulge in wine if it was a particularly delicious vintage, or perhaps he would be so caught up in conversation with your guests that he was blissfully unaware of the feelings he stirred in you; your quickening breath, rosy blush spreading across your cheeks and neck as you fought to remain calm in the face of his ministrations. 

You thought yourself clever one evening while getting dressed and decided to forego wearing panties. You'd been through a dozen or so of these "dinner meetings" with Jumin and his potential business partners, and wanted him to feel even a smidgen of your thrill when he moved to touch you.

It wasn't long before he worked his way up under your skirt. You didn't stop him this time, even parting your legs slightly to allow him easier access. His sharp intake of breath when he made contact with your curls had you grinning into your glass, earning you a sidelong glance and a gaping jaw while his cheeks blossomed red at his discovery. He froze, fingertips resting against your sex.

"Please excuse me, gentlemen." He pulled his phone out of his pocket and gave them a sheepish smile. "I must take this call. I'm terribly sorry for the interruption." And he withdrew his hand from you, walking with as much dignity as he could muster to the men's room. 

The two businessmen seated across from you exchanged concerned and confused expressions, then ultimately shrugged and continued where they had left off. You excused yourself as well, muttering something about freshening up in the ladies room. Thinking nothing of your mumbled apology, you were free to leave the table and walk quickly toward the hall where the restrooms were located.

Jumin caught your wrist just as you rounded the corner, pulling you flush against him and shielding your mouth with his hand when you cried out, your heart leaping into your throat. Your hands fisted in his collar to pull him close, but he held himself just far enough away so that you couldn’t reach his mouth. He clicked his tongue at you and shook his head, a sardonic grin on his lips. “So needy,” he chided, hand trailing up the back of your thigh to take hold of the swell of your backside.

You were practically begging at this point, forehead pressed against his as you breathed, “Kiss me,” against his mouth, the featherlight touch as your lips moved over his making your head buzz, dizzy and drunk on his presence.

He obliged with a sinful slide of his lips upon yours, a groan lost between you when his hand found your sex once more, deft fingers sliding easily through your folds. One stroke, then another, and he left you empty, tongue tracing along your bottom lip before he pulled away, leaving you even more desperate for him.

“We’ll finish this at home,” he promised. “Go and fix your lipstick. I’ll tell our guests there’s been an emergency.” And with a lingering kiss upon your flushed cheek, he left you wrecked and wanting, retreating back toward the front of the restaurant.


End file.
